


Loser's Lurgy

by magpie_fngrl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hand Jobs, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hogwarts Prefects' Bathroom, Humor, Luna's Dubious Advice, M/M, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Harry Potter, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-05 12:43:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14044515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magpie_fngrl/pseuds/magpie_fngrl
Summary: In which Harry and Draco inhale Snarfalump pollen and Luna makes a batty suggestion.





	Loser's Lurgy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [carpemermaid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpemermaid/gifts).



> Dear Carpemermaid,  
> Happy Birthday!! The Discord has brought much joy and many new friends in my life. Thank you so much for providing this space for Drarry creators! As a token of my gratitude, here's a little something for your birthday. I hope you'll enjoy it!
> 
> Thanks to the lovely **[chibaken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibaken/pseuds/chibaken)** for another stellar beta job ❤❤ All remaining mistakes are mine.

‘You need to be careful,’ Malfoy hissed, holding the roots of the Snarfalump they’d been repotting.

‘I know what I’m doing,’ Harry hissed back, fighting with the tentacles that wanted to attach themselves to his body. ‘I’m not _completely_ ignorant.’

‘You could’ve fooled me.’

‘Yeah, ‘cause you’re such a green thumb.’ Harry nodded at where a Mandrake had bitten Malfoy’s wrist last week. Malfoy scowled, but Harry turned his attention back to the recalcitrant Snarfalump. He shuffled to the new pot and shifted, allowing Malfoy to place the roots in first, but Malfoy paused, scrunched his face and:

‘Achoo!’

The Snarfalump took advantage of Malfoy's distraction and jumped from his hands to latch on to Harry, who shoved it back in fear of being enveloped by the slithering tentacles. Malfoy scrambled to hold on to it, but the plant thudded to the floor, its buds bursting in a cloud of pink dust that set them off sneezing.

‘You useless prat!’ Harry snapped, wiping his eyes.

‘ _Me?_ I—’

Malfoy didn't have a chance to finish his sentence as Professor Sprout hurried to their side, wringing her hands. 'Oh no, oh no!'

‘The plant is OK—just er… shaken,’ Harry told her, crouching to pick it up.

She stopped him. ‘I hadn’t realised this plant had matured enough to have formed pollen already.’ Sprout glanced at them both, worrying her lip. Malfoy’s face was covered in the pollen, and Harry imagined his own was the same.

‘Is it dangerous?’ Malfoy asked.

She dismissed his worries with a wave. ‘There’s no reason for the infirmary. Of course you might feel—well, you’re of age anyway—I guess we can’t _forbid_ such things…’

‘Professor, what—’ _the hell_ , ‘—are you talking about?’

She gave them a distracted smile. ‘You can leave class now. Go wash your face and er… maybe have a cold shower. I’d advise staying in your rooms—separately—to make sure you won’t er… be contagious to other students.’

‘Contagious?!’ Malfoy paled.

She ushered them out of the greenhouse. ‘Contagious might be the wrong word. You’ll be fine. You might feel… agitated for the next twenty-four hours and need to miss classes tomorrow morning. I’ll give you a note.’

Standing outside the greenhouse in the cool weather, Harry glanced at Malfoy, bemused. ‘Did you understand any of that?’

Malfoy frowned. ‘Barking mad, the lot of them.’

It was true that since Voldemort’s coup, the Professors had become barmier than an owl in a wig. Harry didn’t know which was worse: Slughorn and his romance novel book club, McGonagall running an after-school dancing society, Sinistra delivering her lessons in limericks and sonnets, or Flitwick and his collection of “sentient rocks”.

They trudged back to the school in silence, having little to say to each other. Their past hostility had evolved into a sort of civil indifference since Malfoy had lost the arrogance that had aggravated Harry so much. There was nothing like surviving a dictator and seeing your family’s name dragged through the mud to reform any school bully, no matter how nasty they’d been. Even reformed, though, Malfoy still managed to rile Harry and slink in under his skin.

Harry headed to his dorm and washed his face. Despite her vague assurances, Sprout had acted as if this pollen were a big deal, but Harry felt fine and quite pleased to be given the afternoon off. He decided to take a nap, falling asleep only to wake up with a start an hour later, drenched in sweat.

He’d had the most bizarre dreams—well not exactly bizarre as to the _nature_ of them, but as to _who_ they involved. His boxers were sticky and he groaned and headed for a shower.

It was just a dream, right? Nothing strange about dreaming of sex, natural for boys of his age. _Happens to everyone_ , Harry thought as he soaped his skin. And so what if it’d involved Malfoy? Harry couldn’t help noticing how attractive Malfoy looked these days, even though he remained an utter twat. Dreams meant nothing. It was Harry’s _subconscious_ which had decided to dream about Malfoy naked on Harry’s bed. With his legs spread open and that infuriating smirk on his face. With his cock and his balls on display for Harry’s eyes—

Harry moaned and found that he’d been stroking his throbbing cock for a few minutes now. Arousal swelled inside him, and he splayed a hand on the tiles for support while he brought himself to another orgasm. And then another.

 

‘Ron, I don’t know what to do,’ Harry whispered in panic at dinner. ‘I think the pollen has given me _urges._ And _dreams._ ’

‘What sort of dreams? Nightmares?’

Harry shook his head and glanced meaningfully at Ron. He didn’t get it. Harry glanced meaningfully again. Then he nodded at his lap and back at Ron, but Ron blinked at him.

‘ _Wet_ dreams, idiot,’ Ginny said from across the table, loudly, drawing everyone’s looks towards them. Ron’s face cleared with understanding.

‘ _Thank you, Ginny_ ,’ Harry gritted out, feeling his face burning. He glanced to make sure the Slytherins weren’t paying attention, and saw that Malfoy was absent from their table.

‘But that’s normal, innit?’ Ron asked. ‘Right?’ He sounded a little unsure now.

‘It is, but maybe we can talk about it in private,’ Harry insisted, but it was too late. Hermione and Ginny demanded to know, just as Luna strolled from her table and sat with them.

‘At least cast a Muffliato,’ Harry sighed and Hermione obliged. In a low voice, dying from embarrassment, Harry told them about his unrelenting boners since the Herbology lesson. He refrained from adding that it was the thought of Malfoy that caused a large number of them, although he was tempted to mention it just to wipe Ron’s pesky smile off his face.

‘It’s the Snarfalump, right?’ Ron said in the end, possibly noticing the look of murder in Harry’s eyes and trying to be helpful.

As usual, Hermione debated several ways to handle things with the help of the library and research, Ginny laughed herself hoarse, and Luna made a batty suggestion. ‘What you’re experiencing is a strain of Loser’s Lurgy.’

Hermione rolled her eyes behind Luna and Ron stifled a laugh at her words. Harry smiled politely. ‘Loser’s Lurgy?’

‘Yes,’ she replied blithely. ‘Snarfalump is used in potions to enhance virility and, since the plant was maturing, its pollen causes you to have the same desire.’

‘To mature?’

Ginny answered instead, her eyes wet from laughing. ‘To get laid.’

‘Oh.’ Harry’s cheeks burned. He hadn’t had sex yet, although he and Ginny had gone as far as rubbing each other over clothing during their brief relationship before the coup. But since then Ginny had met Cho—his ex of all people—in a Quidditch match and now his exes were dating each other, and Harry was dreaming of Malfoy’s arse. How had this become his life?

Ron guffawed. ‘As if we need an incentive to want sex.’

‘But what does it have to do with Loser’s Lurgy?’ Hermione asked, ever the voice of reason.

‘Loser’s Lurgy occurs when you fail to satisfy the urge to procreate. Some sources say that your, er… _pride and joy_ will stop being your pride and joy. Because it’ll wither and die. Like a plant!’ Luna beamed, pleased at her metaphor and oblivious to the look of horror on Harry’s face. Ginny wheezed with laughter.

‘What sources?’ Hermione challenged.

‘Oh, we have a wealth of material at the Quibbler archives…’

Harry wasn’t listening. He turned to Ron, who looked back with the same shocked expression. ‘Mate, you gotta get laid.’

 

‘I personally don’t think it’s a good idea to listen to Luna,’ Hermione said in the Gryffindor common room. ‘We’ve known what she’s like for years. Remember the Erumpent horn?’

Harry remembered the Erumpent horn, but he also felt Erumpentously horny. His erections had followed one another, no matter how much wanking he did. He didn’t even need to use his favourite Quidditch Today’s centerfold as inspiration, since the mere thought of any attractive person—but particularly Malfoy, for some _unfathomable_ reason—caused blood to rush to his groin.

Like right now. Damn. Harry adjusted his trousers and stood, saying he was going to the Prefects’ bathroom. ‘You’re right; if there was any truth in what Luna’s saying, Professor Sprout would’ve told us.’ Harry sounded more confident than he felt. ‘I’m going to soak in the bath and forget this is my life.’

Ron snorted and made a “happy wanking” gesture that Hermione swatted, but Harry had seen the laugh she tried to hide. _Great_. As he climbed through the portrait hole, he glanced at Ginny, who caught his eye, mouthed “have fun” and did the same gesture as her brother. Fucking Weasleys.

 

* * *

 

Draco wasn’t having a good day. In fact, he was having a terrible, very bad, no good, _atrocious_ if he were being honest, day. He’d spent the whole afternoon and evening in his bed, unable to stop wanking himself raw. Normally, touching himself constituted a pleasant hobby, and a long wanking session had never failed to lift his spirits, but this was getting ridiculous. He’d come in his palm, Vanish the evidence, pull his boxers up, get out of bed, and by the time he’d reach the door, he’d be hard again.

‘Tell me what to do,’ he asked Blaise.

‘How should I know?’

‘Because you wank a lot. I can hear you every night.’

‘No more than you,’ Blaise pointed out. ‘At least I don’t call Potter’s name…’

‘I told you a million times I said “Puttor”, as in Jeremy Puttor who I met in Bristol over the summer…’ Draco’s cheeks burned.

‘Ah, the mysterious Jeremy Puttor,’ Blaise smirked. Draco considered hexing him. ‘What do you want to know?’

Half an hour later, Draco left the dorm for the Prefect’s bathroom, cursing the utter _uselessness_ of Blaise and his abysmal knowledge of sex related spells or illnesses or anything that didn’t involve putting a cock in a cunt. Straight boys were so fucking clueless.

Draco reached the bathroom and uttered the password a fellow Slytherin was kind enough to whisper in his ear in return for an introduction to Daphne. Silence greeted him; at this time of night, after curfew for the rest of the school, there was no one around. Draco hung his clothes, wrapped one of the fluffy towels around his waist and whistled as he walked down the shower stalls to the door that led to the large bathtub. He was halfway into the steamy room when he heard a spluttered: ‘What are _you_ doing here?’

Frozen, Draco glared at Potter amidst the steam and ignored the embarrassingly enthusiastic reaction of his cock. ‘What the fuck do you think I’m doing? I’m here for a bath.’

Draco was about to turn heel—possibly hide in a shower stall to rub one off—and abandon the whole idea of relaxing tonight, but then Potter had the effrontery to say, ‘The bathtub is taken’.

Vexed, Draco strode to the edge of the sunken tub, removed his towel and, very swiftly, entered the water. Potter kept blinking at him without his glasses, so hopefully his eyesight wasn’t good enough to notice Draco’s rampant erection. ‘I won’t be sent away by a _Gryffindor_ ,’ Draco said, settling in the warm, ocean-scented water. He’d aimed to lace the word _Gryffindor_ with as much scorn as he could manage, and judging by Potter’s glowering, he’d succeeded.

‘Whatever,’ Potter said. ‘It’s a big tub.’

Draco shut his eyes and tried to relax, an exercise he soon abandoned as futile. Potter was right there! _Naked_. Naked Potter was _there_. He’d laid back, suds up to his chest, eyes shut as if he didn’t give a fig about whom he shared the bath with. Draco was pleased to discover that, although his lower body burned with desire, mentally he still had possession of his senses and felt nothing but irritation at the sight of the man and his offensive hair.

While Draco squirmed, feeling the _irritation_ warm his groin, Potter’s expression changed. His lips parted and his eyelids fluttered. The sight of it brought shivers down Draco’s spine. Potter looked simply divine, wet and glistening, soft sighs escap— _hold on a minute_!

‘Are you wanking?!’ he demanded.

Potter’s eyes flew open and he had the decency to blush—only that made him look even more attractive. ‘Not precisely,’ he clearly lied. ‘Have you not been affected?’

Draco considered how much to divulge. ‘Some.’

Potter sighed. ‘I’m glad we have tomorrow off. Can’t imagine going to lessons like this.’

Draco knew the feeling. ‘At least it’s only twenty-four hours. And then it’ll pass, no damage done.’

‘Yes,’ Harry said, his gaze lingering on Draco. ‘If Luna’s not right,’ he added.

His ominous tone piqued Draco’s curiosity. ‘What did Lovegood say?’

Potter shrugged. ‘She said the pollen wants to “procreate” and if we don’t have sex, our dicks will wither and die.’

‘What?!’ Draco rushed to touch his cock and make sure it felt the same as before. ‘Is er… pleasuring ourselves not enough?’

Harry went red at the word “pleasuring”. ‘Typical Luna stuff. Sprout would’ve mentioned it, right?’

‘Unless she didn’t know! Or didn’t care! Maybe she thought it’d be a good punishment for me—’

‘She’d never,’ Potter interrupted. ‘And why wouldn’t she tell _me_? You’d think she’d want me to keep my cock after everything I did.’

‘Well, I, for one, am not willing to leave it up to the chance Sprout hasn’t lost her marbles, like the rest of the staff.’

‘Great,’ Harry gestured. ‘Go and shag someone.’

That brought Draco to a stop. There were very few people in this castle who’d shag him and even fewer that _he_ ’d be willing to shag. In fact, he could only think of one.

‘I mean, I wouldn’t say no to getting laid,’ Potter was saying now, ‘but finding someone I like is a different matter.’

Draco gave him a considering look. Potter blinked at him—he looked different without his glasses, more open and less _Potter_ —and bit his lip as if he’d said too much.

Heart beating fast, Draco slid closer. ‘You’ve hordes of fans. Isn’t one of them willing to volunteer and fall on your sword, as it were?’

‘I don’t have much time to woo one of them, do I?’

Draco moved a little closer. ‘You just need someone to help you out, ‘sall.’

‘Exactly,’ Potter said.

Draco remained quiet. Beside him, Potter gazed intently at the picture of the mermaid. Draco’s pulse raced as he considered what Potter might be suggesting. In private moments, he’d admit to himself he fancied Potter—purely sexual, nothing more—and the notion that Potter might be up for a quick tumble…

‘You know what I thought?’ Draco said casually. ‘We could help each other. We’re both in the same predicament.’

Potter coughed to clear his throat. ‘I guess we could. Makes sense.’

‘It does, doesn’t it?’ Draco replied, breathless.

Potter turned to him and swallowed. ‘I still dislike you, you know that?’

Draco smirked. ‘Potter, I _hate_ you. This won’t change anything.’   

‘Good,’ Potter said and kissed him.

It was a good thing the water held him up because Draco would’ve fallen down if he’d been standing. Potter’s kiss was incendiary. It blazed from Draco’s mouth to his chest and to his groin, all the way down to his toes. Draco found himself clutching Potter tight, fingers digging into the wet skin. They both seemed remarkably capable of foregoing breathing. Draco pulled back to mouth at Potter’s jaw, rubbing his cheek against his stubble, and Potter pushed him back to the edge of the tub, enclosing him with his arms. This was the kind of prison Draco would be very happy to be sentenced to. He showed his appreciation by licking Potter’s neck, but then Potter canted his hips towards him and Draco had a stroke.

Well, it felt like a stroke in the sense that his brain emptied of trivial details, such as his name, and filled to bursting with the sensation of Potter’s cock rubbing against his. Draco wanted to see it, but at the moment he’d content himself with touching. As Potter rubbed himself against Draco’s thigh, Draco slipped his hand between their bodies and grasped Potter’s cock.

The sound coming from Potter’s mouth almost made Draco come. It was a close thing. He smirked, pleased to see Potter melting in his hands, and brought their cocks together in his palm. He stroked them, feeling both of them hovering at the edge—Draco was amazed he’d lasted so long, especially when just the sight of Potter’s face, lost in bliss, was driving him insane with lust. Draco tightened his hand and pumped faster, increasing his pace, until, with a cry, Potter came in Draco’s fist. Draco stroked him through the last throes of his orgasm, gazing at his expression of ecstasy and pure bliss, stunned at the thought: _I made this happen_. A different feeling surged inside him, constricting his chest, making him ache. He claimed Potter’s mouth, who kissed him back in the most Gryffindor way possible, all fire and daring. Potter swatted Draco’s hand away from his cock to touch him instead, and as Potter’s tongue did filthy things in Draco’s mouth, his hand brought Draco to an explosive climax.

They held each other while getting their breath back. For the first time in several hours, Draco’s body calmed. Absently, he nosed at Potter’s neck, leaving behind a trail of kisses. Potter’s hand stroked his hair.

Long moments passed and the silence grew tense. They drew back and met each other’s eyes. Draco had no idea what to say. Potter also looked lost for words.

‘Thanks, I guess,’ Draco said.

Potter nodded. ‘You, too.’ His eyes searched Draco’s, looking like he wanted to say something. Draco waited with baited breath, but in the end Potter swam away. He reached the edge of the tub and murmured, ‘See you around then.’ A moment later he’d gone.

Draco chased the pleasant feeling he’d experienced after he came, but all he found was a hollow ache.

 

The next morning Draco skipped breakfast. Having sex had succeeded in giving his body a rest for most of the night, but just before dawn he’d been woken up by an unflagging erection and some very hot dreams involving bathtubs. The ordeal had started again. Draco flopped on his pillow, resolved to a morning of perfunctory wanks, when the door of his dorm opened and closed without anyone coming in.

Draco reacted instinctively. He grabbed his wand and pointed it randomly, but a voice said, ‘I’m not here to hurt you.’

‘ _Potter_?’ Draco said the same moment Potter took off his invisibility cloak. ‘How did you get in?’

‘I asked Zabini for the password,’ Potter replied.

‘Has the man no sense of loyalty?’ Draco wondered aloud, although he knew the answer to that: no. He sat up and stared at Potter. ‘Why are you here?’ He could guess, though; Potter was still affected, same as him.

Potter hesitated. ‘I wondered… how do we know we avoided Loser’s Lurgy?’

‘Is your memory really that short?’ Potter glared at him, and Draco sighed. ‘We had sex, wasn’t that what Lovegood advised?’

Potter shifted back into awkward. ‘We had one type of sex, but how do we know it was the _correct_ one?’

The implications of what he was saying hit Draco like a Bludger, knocking his breath out. ‘So,’ he said in a hoarse voice, ‘what do you want to do?’

Potter’s eyes burned. ‘Everything.’

 

They might have skipped lessons, but it turned out to be a supremely educational morning for both of them. In fact, Draco would even go so far as to say that it was far more instructive than half the modules he’d been taking this year, including Herbology. He learned a great number of things in such short time, like how it felt to have someone’s mouth on your cock (heavenly), or how much preparation was needed for an arse to accommodate a generously-sized dick (not as much as he’d expected).

He also learned that Potter made a particular sound every time he came, and that he liked to thread his fingers in Draco’s hair, and that he sometimes said nonsensical things, like _Thank Merlin for magical Viagra_. He enjoyed being touched a _lot_ , but caressing the inside of his thighs could make him positively quiver. He also seemed eager to learn more about Draco and conducted a full exploration of his body, noting Draco’s reactions and adjusting accordingly.

Their relentless boners persisted for most of the morning, and Draco had been pleased to discover a platter of sandwiches on his bedside table, because that meant they could skip lunch and spend more time in bed.

‘You know,’ Draco whispered, several sweaty hours later, caressing the hair off Harry’s face. ‘You look different without your glasses on.’

Potter smiled. ‘What do I look like?’

‘Not like your normal, annoying self. You look like… like _Harry_.’

‘Funny you should mention this. Guess what my parents named me.’

‘Ha. Ha.’

The silence between them had long ceased to be uncomfortable. Harry bit his lip. ‘I’ve a confession to make.’ He paused, which was ample time for Draco to tense, worried about what was coming. ‘I didn’t really believe in Loser’s Lurgy.’

Draco laughed, relieved. He almost said _me neither_ , but then he changed his mind. ‘Really? Because I’m convinced we’re in danger of dying from it if I don’t suck your cock _right now_.’

Harry burst in laughter. ‘Best do it then. Loser’s Lurgy is such a _dire_ disease.’ 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also on [tumblr](http://magpiefngrl.tumblr.com/) if you wanna come say hi :)
> 
> PLEASE DON'T REPOST MY WORK ON INSTAGRAM, WATTPAD AND ANYWHERE ELSE. POSTING IT AND CREDITING ME IS ALSO NOT ALLOWED. If you wish to share this fic with your insta followers, feel free to screenshot the header ONLY (title, rating, tags, summary) and provide a LINK. NOT THE ENTIRE FIC.


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